


Sunday Morning

by QwahaXahn



Series: Sousa's Letter & Related Stories [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Agents of S.W.O.R.D., Banter, Children, Children of Characters, Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Love, Married Characters, Married Couple, Married Life, Old Married Couple, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Post-Season/Series 07, Post-Season/Series Finale, S.W.O.R.D. mention, SHIELD, SHIELD Family, SHIELD Husbands, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Skye | Daisy Johnson-centric, Snark, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25481239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QwahaXahn/pseuds/QwahaXahn
Summary: The continued adventures of my most unexpected OTP, in which Daisy and Daniel Johnson-Sousa enjoy a quiet morning together as an older married couple.
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Series: Sousa's Letter & Related Stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845862
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	Sunday Morning

A gentle smile tugged at Daisy’s lips as she read the ink on the yellowed page in her fingers. She recognized the neat, precise hand of her husband but the words were new to her.

The soft yellow of the morning sun streamed into the sunroom through the various windows, and dust motes danced around her flower-patterned dress as she stood in the center of the open space. The sundress wasn’t her usual style, but she appreciated the change. Wearing suits got old after a while. The room had been furnished with a glass coffee table, a couple of woven chairs and couches, and several bookshelves (mostly filled with classics from the early 20th century—only one person in the household liked to read, and he wasn’t big on the newer authors).

The quiet creak of the screen door behind her alerted Daisy to Daniel’s entrance. She’s traded in her field work for a desk job years ago, but the instincts never left. She knew every entrance and exit to the room at all times—even here, in her own house.

“What’s that?” Daniel asked, stepping up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist.

Daisy smirked and turned about in his embrace, dangling the letter in front of his face, holding it between her right thumb and forefinger. “When did you write this?”

A flicker of recognition crossed Daniel Sousa’s eyes. Her husband had a very understated way of reacting to surprise, but Daisy knew him well enough to read that expression. Her grin widened.

“Must’ve been, uh... It was a while back.” He scratched at his head with one hand. “On the Zephyr, after you got hurt.”

One of Daisy’s fists slipped free and socked him gently on the shoulder. “I knew it! You were  _ so _ into me. Waiting by me while I slept for  _ hours. _ ”

“Ow.” Daniel chuckled. “I was being polite.”

Daisy’s eyebrows shot up. “Polite?” She pulled open the letter, holding it out like a scroll, and cleared her throat loudly. She read out loud: “I never wrote another poem since I got back from the war, but now I’m looking at this girl and all I see are words.”

Daniel shrugged. “It’s true. You got me writing again.”

“And you’re sure you like the newspaper?”

He nodded. “It’s good for me. Plus, I still get to help out the cause from time-to-time. I can keep important operations off the front page. About time I left the spy gig to people like you”

“I’m barely a spy these days,” Daisy commented, leaning into his chest.

“You run a whole division. S.W.O.R.D. is better with you in it.” He squeezed her a little tighter.

Daisy smiled. “I hope so.”

Their moment of quiet together was interrupted by the babble of two small figures rushing into the room and chasing one another around the sun-bleached furniture. One boy and one girl, both dark-featured and still dressed in their pajamas.

“Slow down,” Daniel called at the children. “You’ll trip.”

“Might be good for them,” Daisy commented under her breath, but she nevertheless stepped forward to snatch up the dark-haired little boy as he tried to race past. Daniel did the same for their daughter, who clung to his shirt as he lifted her into the air.

“Mike stole my stuffy,” the little girl pouted.

“She kept making my bed shake!” came the reply.

Daniel looked at his daughter. “Anne. Is that true?”

The girl looked down and nodded sheepishly. Her deep brown tresses tumbled around her face. She had her mother’s eyes.

Daniel’s expression grew serious. “We don’t quake each other, sweet pea. You know that.”

As her husband lectured Anne, Daisy set her son down and held out one hand. “Michael Antoine Johnson-Sousa, give your sister’s stuffy back.”

With a sigh, the boy moved over to the coffee table, dug around underneath, and then pulled out a white, fluffy rabbit from a pocket beneath. Apparently, he’d picked up some dead drop skills recently. He wouldn’t have known how to set that up back when he was nine.

Or at least, he shouldn’t have known how...

Daisy made a mental note to check the rest of the house for hidden stashes as Mike handed over the plush toy. She returned the animal to her daughter’s waiting arms, and then mother and father stood together and looked down at their kids.

“And now we apologize,” Daisy said, folding her arms.

Daniel looked back and forth at the two. “Both of you.”

The kids exchanged awkward apologies to each other, and then scattered in opposite directions as soon as their parents gave the nod that they had fulfilled their duty.

“Don’t forget,” Daniel called as they vanished from the room, “be ready to go by noon! Uncle Mack isn’t going to wait!”

With a smirk, Daisy hugged him from behind and gently rocked back and forth, before going up onto her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek.

Daniel shook his head, looking in the direction the children had disappeared. “He’s going to have a handful with them.”

“Mack can handle it,” his wife replied. “Probably.”

Then, Daisy came around to hold Daniel face-to-face, and the two looked at each other.

“How did I end up with the perfect life?” the man mused, looking incredulous at the sight of the woman he’d married a decade ago.

Daisy kissed him, full on the lips. She couldn’t help the fire that ignited when he looked at her that way, even after so much time together.

“You deserve it,” she said.

Daniel shook his head. “Who am I to argue with a woman like you?”

Daisy smirked and kissed him again. “Beats me, poetry boy.”


End file.
